In The Name of Being Honest
by TheNextFolchart
Summary: Love stories that really happened. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and the heartbreakers.
1. Last Kiss

**Last Kiss**

* * *

_all THat i know Is_

_i don't know how to be Something you miss_

_never thought We'd have a lAst kisS_

_never iMagined we'd End like this_

* * *

"Listen," Charlie said, and his hands were in his pockets and his eyes were on the ground and her heart was pounding _no, no, no._

"What are you doing," she whispered.

"These past two years," he said, refusing to meet her eye, "have been amazing."

"Charlie."

"And I really care about you."

"_Charlie_." She was crying. "Don't do this."

"But I can't keep this up." He swallowed. "It's - I need some time for myself. There's a lot going on for me right now. And - and who were we _kidding, _Dora. We knew this wasn't going to last forever."

Her heart was swelling, swelling, swelling, there was no room left for her lungs, there was no room to breathe. "I didn't know that," she said, and she was staring at him _hard_, but he wouldn't look at her.

"We're leaving Hogwarts in two months. You're going to be an Auror, and I'm going to Romania, and you - we've always said long distance is too hard."

She closed her eyes. "You mean so much to me," she whispered.

"You mean everything to me."

"Then why are you _doing _this?" She opened her eyes, and they were wet but they were also _fierce_, and for just a second she wanted to _hurt _him. "Look at me!"

He did, and she almost broke down, because he was crying, too, and she'd never seen Charlie Weasley cry before, she hadn't known he was capable. "Nymphadora," he said. "I care about you so much. But you'll end up hurt if we try to make this work. You'll end up so, so hurt."

"I'm hurt now."

"I know, but this will heal, this will go away."

She shook her head. "It won't. Not for me."

"It will. I promise you, it will. Because you deserve someone who can give you everything, and I can't, I've _never _been able to give you what you want, I'm - "

"Is this about money to you?" She laughed once, harshly, and reached out to shove him. "Is this about _money _to you?"

"No!"

She shoved him again, and again, and he _let _her, and that was the worst part of all. "This isn't about _money,_" she seethed. "This is about my _heart_."

"I'm sorry."

She moved to push him again, but she tripped over nothing and fell into his chest, and he caught her like he always did, and suddenly she was sobbing. "Say it, then," she choked. "Tell me you don't - tell me you don't care about me - anymore - "

"I care about you. I do. More than anything. This is just how it needs to be. I'm sorry."

She blinked hard to stop the tears. "So what now?"

"Now we walk away," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"But after that. Are we just going to pretend it didn't happen? Sit down at different desks and act like strangers? Avoid each other?"

"Yes, at first."

"I don't want to _do _that."

"It's not going to be easy."

"It's going to be _impossible_."

He hugged her tightly. "But every day will get easier. If anyone can make it through this, Tonks, it's you."

And that hurt most of all - that name - because it sounded _wrong _on his lips, she was _Nymphadora _to him, and only to him, it was the only way she knew how to say I Love You and the only way he knew how to say it back and now it was gone, gone, gone, _over_, and she felt numb and broken and empty and _full _all at the same time.

"Kiss me," she begged. "One last time."

He did.

(But it didn't feel like her Charlie anymore.)

* * *

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Charlie Weasley]_

_[Collect A Collection Competition: Nymphadora Tonks (Order Members)]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: kiss]_

_[Wizard Family Portrait Challenge: Charlie Weasley]_

_[100 Prompts: Sorrow; Pain]_


	2. Today Was A Fairytale

**Today Was A Fairytale**

* * *

_you told me i was PRetty when I loOked like a Mess_

_today was a fairytale..._

_caN you feel thIs maGic in tHe air?_

_iT must have been the way you kissed me_

* * *

"Honestly, Sirius, are you just going to sit there all night?"

Sirius jerked his head up. "Sorry," he said, gesturing at the Golden Snitch in his lap. "I was just fixing this."

Marlene rolled her eyes and adjusted her dress - gold, like the Snitch. "You're pretty oblivious to what's going on around you, you know," she said, watching James and Lily in the corner, sneaking kisses when they thought nobody was looking. She made a beautiful bride, Marlene thought, and James was a dashing groom, and they deserved each other more than any two people on Earth.

(Because Merlin knew she didn't deserve the handsome Best Man sitting on the sidelines fiddling with a Snitch.)

"Hmm?"

"I said you're oblivious."

"Oh." He was still messing around with the Snitch.

"And you take forever."

"What, with fixing the Snitch? It's a delicate process."

(For the hundredth time, she wondered whether he really didn't notice how much she liked him.)

"Not just with the Snitch. With _everything_."

"Like what?" He put the Quidditch ball down on the table and moved to join her at the edge of the dance floor.

"Just - with a lot of things. I suppose it's not your fault. You're remarkably bad at noticing things going on around you."

"That's not true," he said indignantly. "I notice things."

"No, you don't, actually." _Or you'd have noticed _me. "You just sit there, wrapped up in your own world, fixing your stupid Snitch, and you don't even pay attention to what's right under your nose."

"Marlene," Sirius said, and he was looking into her eyes and her heart leaped because _maybe this was it._ "I don't know what you're talking about right now."

She exhaled heavily. "You're oblivious," she said again, letting her gaze drift back to James and Lily.

"Hey." His voice was soft at her ear. "You seem upset."

"I _am _upset."

"Why?"

"Because you don't know _anything_, that's why."

"I know some things."

"No, you don't."

"I know some things," he said, and she finally looked at him.

"Yeah?" She licked her lips. "Prove it."

He smirked. "I know there's a question you're dying for me to ask."

"You think?"

"Mhm."

"Go on, then." Her heart was pounding. "Ask me.

He grinned. "Will you go out with me?"

She let out a breathless laugh. "It _took _you long enough."

He winked. "I like to get my timing just right."

She punched his arm. "Eight years, Sirius. We've been playing these games for _eight years._"

He shrugged. "You could've asked me out any time you wanted."

She blushed. "I like to think that's the _man's _job."

His arm snaked around her waist. "I think it's sexy when a woman takes charge," he said with a wink.

She pivoted to face him and locked her arms around his neck. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I - "

But he didn't get to finish, because she was already kissing him.

* * *

_[Hook A Prompt Challenge: R2 - Golden Snitch]_

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Marlene McKinnon]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: embrace]_


	3. Hey Stephen

**Hey Stephen**

* * *

_all those other gIrls, Well, they're beAutiful,_

_but would they write a Song for you?_

_i can't help it if You lOok like an angel_

_can't help it if i want to kiss yoU in the Rain, so_

_COme feel this magic i've been feeling SincE i met you_

_can'T help iT if there's no one elsE_

* * *

The first time he laid eyes on her, they were both too young.

(He wanted her anyway.)

Because yes, she was beautiful, and yes, she was French, but nobody seemed to notice that she also had a camera hung around her neck. Its long lens peeped out from beneath her cloak, hiding from everyone who wasn't willing to search for it.

(He was willing to search. He always searched.)

"Hi," he said when the feast was over and the Hogwarts students were free to meet with their guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

She turned at his voice, and she couldn't have been more than eight, but her eyes had depth, like this girl had lived a hundred lives before, and her smile was genuine. "_Salut_."

"My name is Colin. Colin Creevey." He stuck out his hand. A taller girl standing a few feet away narrowed her eyes.

She took it, and her grip was stronger than he'd expected. "_Je m'appelle Gabrielle Delacour._"

"I like your camera," he said, reaching to pull back her cloak, but the taller girl let out a gasp and strode forward to grab his arm.

"What do you theenk you are doing?" she asked in heavily accented English.

"I was just going to look at - " Colin started.

"Do not touch my seester. Do you not see she is too young for you?" The sister threw his arm down. "Leave us alone."

"_Fleur_," Gabrielle said, touching her sister's arm. "_Il n'est pas ce que tu penses. _'E only wants to see my camera."

Fleur narrowed her eyes again. Colin tried not to look directly at the older sister. "Be careful, Gabrielle," she said finally, taking a step backwards. "Men vill only break your 'eart."

Gabrielle smiled apologetically at Colin. "Fleur is overprotective of me," she explained, pulling back her cloak to reveal her lens. "'Ere. Zhis is my camera. You 'ave one, too, _n'est-ce pas?_"

"I have one, yes." Colin tapped his own camera, hanging around his neck as usual. "What do you like to photograph?"

"Nature. Skylines. Sunsets." She shrugged. "Vhat about you?"

"People, mostly," Colin said. "My friends. So I can remember them if they ever leave me." He raised his camera to his eye and took a snapshot of her - she cried out in protest and covered her eyes. "There. Now I won't forget you."

She giggled. "I wasn't _ready,_" she said as put her hands around her camera, too. He gave her a big, cheesy grin. "No, no," she said. "Put your camera back up."

He did.

"There," she said when it was done. "Now I won't forget _you_. Colin. Zhe kind boy vith zhe camera."

* * *

He found her again the next day, wandering the halls outside the Gryffindor common room.

"Gabrielle?"

"Colin!" She ran to him, a photo clutched in her hand. "I vas lookeeng for you."

"Really?"

"Yes." She passed him the photo. "I vanted to show you zhe picture. From zhe feast."

It was him, camera held up to his face with his grinning mouth peeking out underneath. Colin waited, but the photograph didn't move. "It's not working," he told her. "That's a shame. Do you want to take another?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "It is not supposed to move," she said. "I like to take my photos without magic. Like a muggle. I capture _one _moment. It is more special."

"That's beautiful," Colin said sincerely. "I always liked them that way, too."

"Do you 'ave my photo developed yet?"

He nodded and unfolded it from his robes. There she was, throwing her silvery-blonde head back in silent laughter and throwing her hands over her eyes. He could have watched it for hours - he _had _watched it for hours, this morning. It made his heart swell, just watching her laugh and knowing it was because of _something he'd done_.

"Oh," she whispered, and she wasn't looking at the photograph, she was looking at _Colin._

He blushed. "Sometimes I like the moving ones better," he said softly.

She looked at him with those eyes that had lived a hundred times before. "Yes. Sometimes zhose are better."

* * *

She sat next to him during the First Triwizard Task, and they talked the entire time about cameras and muggles and nature and people, and eventually they branched out to other topics, things like "What Do You Want To Be" and "What Would You Do With Three Wishes" and "Are We Friends?" and "Yes, We Are."

"Oh," Gabrielle said when her sister walked out to fight her dragon. "Oh, there she is!" She leaned forward in her seat, palms braced against the wooden railing. "Ow," she muttered, pulling her hand back sharply. "Oh, look," she said, showing Colin her smallest finger. "A splinter." She began to pick at the tiny sliver of wood. "It 'urts," she said, cradling her hand against her chest.

"Here." Colin took her hand gently and raised her pinky to his lips. "A kiss to make it better."

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Much better," she said finally, and she let her hand linger in his for a few moments longer.

But then Fleur retrieved her golden egg, and Gabrielle pulled away to clap furiously.

* * *

"Will you be going to the Yule Ball?" Colin asked her later, when he'd smuggled her into the Gryffindor common room and they were comparing large stacks of photographs. "Since your sister's a champion?"

She shook her head. "Too young. And nobody 'as asked me. And even if someone _did _ask me, Fleur would not allow it. 'Men vill break your 'eart, Gabrielle.'" She rolled her eyes.

Colin laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going, either."

"You and I could dance here," she suggested. "In your common room. Our own little Ball."

"We could do that. Sure." He pulled out a moving photograph of Harry Potter playing Quidditch. "What d'you think of this one?"

She took it in her hands and examined it. "It is lovely," she said with a little shrug. "But mine is still better."

He raised his eyebrows. "Which one?"

"This one." She pointed.

It was the muggle photograph of him from the night they met.

"What makes that better than mine?"

She smiled slightly. "Zhe subject matter."

* * *

The Second Task was far harder to sit through than the first had been.

The champions had only been gone for twenty minutes when Fleur Delacour surfaced, empty-handed, and Colin began to panic. Because Gabrielle was down there, she was waiting to be saved, Dumbledore had explained it all, and if Fleur hadn't saved her, _then who was going to?_

He took her photograph out of his pocket and watched her laugh and tried as hard as he could not to absolutely _panic._

(But he couldn't help it, not when Cedric came back with Cho and Krum came back with Hermione and Harry didn't come back at _all _and Fleur was empty-handed.)

It felt like years - lifetimes - before the silvery-blonde head poked up out of the water, and when they hoisted her up onto the dock it took everything Colin had to keep himself from running to her. He stowed her photo and watched them wrap her up in a towel, watched Fleur embrace her in a fierce hug, watched her lift her head and scan the crowd - and watched her smile when she found him staring back at her.

He didn't get to talk to her that night.

But the smile was enough.

* * *

They sat together again during the Third Task, and she was unusually quiet.

"What's wrong?" he asked, raising his camera to his face and clicking a picture of the maze entrance.

"I am leaving tomorrow," she said. "I vill not see you again for a long time. Maybe ever."

His heart paused for a moment, because he'd been thinking the same thing, of course, but neither of them had said it out loud.

"Of course you'll see me again. Maybe - maybe when I'm seventeen, after Hogwarts, I'll move to France!"

She giggled, but her eyes - the ones that had lived a hundred lives, the ones Colin had absolutely _memorized _\- were still sad. "So many years," she mused. "I wish there was a different way. I wish I could stay, or you could run away with me now."

(He wished it, too, so hard he thought his heart would break.)

"You have the photograph," he reminded her. "To remember me by. And here." He pulled her to his side, flipped his camera around, and took a shot of the two of them together. "I'll get you a copy," he promised, letting go of her. "Then we'll have one of both of us."

She tapped the side of his camera with a pale fingernail. "You told me once that you take photographs of your friends in case they abandon you. Vell, I am not abandoning you. I promise."

He bobbed his head once. "I know."

"It still 'urts you, doesn't it." She shook her head. "It 'urts me, too."

He didn't say anything.

"Fleur was right," she said quietly.

"About what?"

There were tears in her eyes. "Broken 'earts."

* * *

And suddenly Cedric was dead and Voldemort was back and everyone was _scared _and _sobbing _and the Beauxbatons carriage was flying away and Colin Creevey was running after it screaming, "_Wait!_"

Clutched in his hand was a photograph of him and Gabrielle, sitting together in the stands, frozen against the paper like two muggles.

* * *

_[The Pride and Prejudice Challenge: write a romance in which there is no sex, kissing, or innuendo ]_

_[Write A Romance Competition: Colin/Gabrielle; Abandon]_

_[Relationship Bingo Board Challenge: C1 - forbidden relationship]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: blush]_

_[Disney Character Competition: Charlotte La Bouf - write about Gabrielle Delacour. Prompt: Dragon]_

_[100 Prompts: dancing; running away]_


	4. Sparks Fly

**Sparks Fly**

_Rated M for smut_

* * *

_you find i'm even betteR than yoU imagined i would be_

_i'm on my guard for the reSt of the world_

_but with you i know it'S no good_

_and i could waIt pAtiently but i really wish you would_

_drop everythiNg now_

* * *

She tasted like firewhiskey, even though neither of them had been drinking.

"Mm," she moaned against his lips, and for once he didn't tell her to be quiet, because they were alone, _finally alone, _tucked away in the secret passageway behind the One-Eyed Witch, and nobody would walk in on them here. "_Fuck_, Fred, I love you."

He wound his hands up in her hair and pressed his lips harder against hers. "You love me?" he murmured.

"I do." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"I love you more," he said, moving to kiss the edge of her jaw, just below her earlobe.

"Mm - _Fred_," she gasped, and her knees buckled. Cries of _Fred, Fred, Fred _echoed through the stone tunnel.

He laughed and swooped her up into his arms. "Too much for you to handle?" he asked, eyes shining even in the darkness of the tunnel.

She looked up at him through half-closed eyes. "You make me feel drunk," she whispered, leaning up to kiss his neck. A shudder ran through him, and he lowered them both to the ground, so he was sitting with his back against the crumbling wall and she was in his lap. "Cold down here," she whispered, snuggling closer to him.

"The day after Christmas tends to be cold, yeah." He traced his fingers over her collarbone. "I'll keep you warm." Their noses grazed each other. "Angelina," he whispered, closing the distance between them in a quick kiss. "You are so beautiful."

She intertwined her fingers with his and pressed them against the wall, over his head, holding him hostage. "Yeah?" she breathed, squirming closer to him. "What about me is so beautiful?"

He let out a laugh, and his breath hung before him in a cloud, momentarily frozen in the December air. "Your eyes," he said. She kissed him. "And your smile." Another kiss. "Your hair." Kiss. "Your hands." Kiss. "Your waist." Kiss, and this one was a little longer, a little deeper. "Mmm, and your hips."

She'd loosened her hold on his hands, and in one quick motion he had her pinned to the ground. "Not fair," she said, but she was grinning. "_Ah, _Fred, it's _cold _down here."

"Shh, I wasn't finished." He hovered over her. "I think your laughter is beautiful."

She tried to lean up to kiss him, but he had her down too firmly.

"Patience," he said with a wink. "I think your dimples are beautiful." He switched both her hands into one of his. "Arch your back."

She did, and he reached around with his free hand to unhook her bra.

"I think your eyes are beautiful."

"You already said my eyes," she murmured.

"Did I?" He leaned down and kissed her hard. "They're worth mentioning again." His free hand traced down her spine and curved around to her navel.

She squirmed. "You're teasing me," she said.

"It's not teasing if I intend to follow through, darling." His hand lingered just over her navel. "Which way do you want me to go?" he asked, eyebrows raised, mouth quirked up in the smirk she loved so much. "Up?" He walked his fingers a few inches toward her chin. Goosebumps popped up all over her skin, and they had nothing to do with the chilly air. "Or down?" And he slid the opposite direction.

She craned her neck back and closed her eyes. "Surprise me."

He shook his head. "Tell me what you want."

"I don't know." She opened her eyes and reached up to pull him down into a kiss.

He resisted. "I like it when you tell me."

She let out a breathless laugh. "Okay." She wrapped her hand around his wrist and guided it downward. "Down."

He winked. "I knew you'd say that." He slid his fingers down agonizingly slowly, barely skimming her skin, and she was breathing hard already, and he loved how helpless she let herself be around him.

Just before he hit her sweet spot, he stopped.

Angelina grabbed his wrist tightly. "What are you doing?"

"You say you love me?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"A lot. _Please_, Fred."

"Hmm." He pressed one finger down gently. She let out a ragged gasp. "How _much, _though?"

"So much."

He pressed down harder. "That much? Is that how much you love me?"

"I know what you're doing," she groaned.

"Do you love me _this _much?" Harder, and now another finger was probing around, teasing, and she was _so wet_.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," she breathed.

"Ah, darling, not as much as you are." He grinned and pushed _in, _ever so slightly.

She let out a moan. "Come on. Come on, just _do it_."

"Mm, begging, are we?"

She licked her lips and reached with a shaking hand to smack his arm. "Fuck you."

In one quick motion he pushed a finger all the way inside. It knocked the breath out of her. "You want to?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

All she could hear was her heartbeat. "What?"

He was moving his fingers all over her, and it was all she could do not to absolutely burst. "I said - " He leaned close to her face and kissed her. "Do you want to?"

"Do I want to _what?_"

"Fuck me."

She closed her eyes. "Yes."

He laughed once, softly, gently, breathlessly, like he couldn't believe she'd actually said it. "Okay," he whispered, and there, in the middle of the coldest part of the year, he wrapped her up around himself and they made their own spark of warmth.

* * *

_[Relationship Bingo Board: D1 - Smut]_

_[Collect A Collection: Fred (Weasleys)]_

_[Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge: Four Houses - Gryffindor 1/4]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: stone]_

_[Wizard Family Portrait Challenge: Fred Weasley]_

_[Forbidden Word Competition: "Winter"]_


	5. If This Was A Movie

**If This Was A Movie**

* * *

_i was playIng back a thousAnd Memories, baby,_

_thinking 'bout everythinG We'vE beeN through_

_maybe i've been going back too much lately_

_when time Stood sTill and i hAd you._

_come back, Come back, come back to me like_

_you would, You would if this was a movie_

* * *

She hadn't meant to run into him at the Ministry.

(Yes, she had, who was she kidding?)

"Sirius!"

His head jerked up. "Lily!"

She smiled and lifted a hand in an awkward greeting. "Hi," she said. "How've you been?" _What kind of question is that, Lily? He's doing fantastic, and you know it._

He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "Fine. How about you?"

_Still devastated. Still angry. Still in love with you. _

"Good. Really good." The engagement ring suddenly felt heavier on her finger. "I - I came here to see James," she lied. "But now that I've got you here, I just remembered I have a question. D'you - are you in a hurry, or - ?"

"I have time," he said.

She exhaled. "Good. Good. Okay. Um. You can say no, if you want, but there's a new muggle cinema opening in Godric's Hollow, and they were handing out free tickets - I've got two of them, for tonight. And James is working late, so he can't come, but I wondered if maybe you wanted to come with me?"

Sirius rubbed his jaw. "Do you think that would be good for either one of us, Lily?"

She bit down hard on her lip. "I can't speak for you, of course, but I'm in a good place." _Liar. _"And we said we were going to try and stay friends."

He sighed. "I dunno if now's a good time. Maybe another night."

"I only have the free tickets for tonight, and if I can't go for free I'm not sure I want to go at all."

He reached up to scratch his nose. "Ah. I see. Well, I hope you'll find someone else to go with you in my place." Her face fell - only for a moment, but she knew he saw it. "I do think something like that could be good, for the friends thing," he added hastily. "But I've got a lot of work tonight."

She nodded. "Okay. I won't push you into it. I just thought it could be fun. Let me know if you change your mind." She started to walk away, towards James' office, but he called her back.

"I'm done here at six-thirty."

She turned back. "The film starts at six."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Another time, maybe, then."

"Yeah." _Now walk away, Lily. Just walk out of here while you still have _some _dignity. _"I - I could see if they'll trade the tickets in for a different time."

_You persistent, delusional idiot._

He thought about it for a moment. "Do you think they'd do that?"

She nodded.

"Okay. How about eight?"

"Eight." She smiled. "I'll go get that sorted, then." She started for the door.

"I thought you were here to see James?" Sirius called after her.

"Right." She shook her head. "I just - I wanted to say hello, that's all. But it can wait. Got to go change the tickets!" And she ran out the door and Disapparated before he could call her out.

_Smooth, Lily._

* * *

("Hi," she said when she made it to the cinema. "I have free tickets for six o'clock, and I was wondering whether you'd switch them out for free tickets at eight o'clock?"

The man behind the counter shook his head. "Sorry. We can't do that. Would you like to purchase two for eight o'clock?"

Lily already had her wallet out.)

* * *

"So what did you think of the film?" Lily asked when it was over.

Sirius shrugged. "It was alright. For muggles."

She laughed a little too loudly.

"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room, Lils?" he said finally.

"What elephant?" _Don't play dumb, Lily, you're making it worse for yourself._

"That film - that was all about a couple who broke up and then tried to remain friends."

"Well. Yes. But there was also action. I was focused on the action part." _Liar. _

"Evans." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "You and I - we were great together."

She tried not to blink too hard, but the tears were already welling up. "I know we were."

"But you love James. You _love _him. I know you do." He looked pointedly at the ring on her finger.

"I love you both." Her voice cracked.

"But you can't _have _both." He pulled her into a hug, and it was nothing like their old hugs had been, nothing at all, and she hated him and she loved him and he _knew it_.

"That's why I'm _trying _to keep you on as my friend," she snapped. "I'm doing everything I bloody _can_."

"Maybe you need to stop trying, then," he said softly. "Just for awhile. If you want to talk to me, write it down in a diary, or a letter. If you want to see me, find an old photograph. But don't - don't come stalking me at the Ministry. Don't invite me to things. Not if it's just going to be the two of us."

She licked her lips, and they were salty with tears, and since _when _did she cry like this?

(_Since you got dumped by Sirius Black._)

"It shouldn't hurt to love someone," she whispered.

"We can't be like the couple in the movie, Lily. Not when you're engaged. Not when things are so complicated." He gave her a little half-hug. "I'll see you at the wedding," he said, and then he was walking away.

_Come back_ was on the tip of her tongue, but she let him leave.

And her heart shattered into broken glass all over again.

* * *

_[100 Prompts: "You persistent delusional idiot"; broken glass; "It shouldn't hurt to love you."]_

_[Collect A Collection Competition: Lily Potter (Order Members); Location Prompt: Godric's Hollow]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: stop]_


	6. I'd Lie

**I'd Lie**

* * *

_HE looks around the rooM_

_Innocently overlookS the truth_

_Shouldn't a light go on,_

_doESn't he know that i've had him MEmorized for so long?_

* * *

Fifteen-year-old Peter sat in the common room with his cheek balanced in his palm and watched James play chess.

(He couldn't help it. James was fun to watch.)

"Checkmate," Sirius cried, but James grinned and pointed out that no, this was only a regular _check_, and he could easily get out of it by scooting his rook two spaces to the left.

"I'll play winner," Peter announced, abandoning his chair by the fire and moving to the corner where his friends were sitting.

"Shush, Peter, I'm trying to concentrate." Sirius furrowed his brow and carefully nudged his bishop forward. "Check," he said.

"Nice try." James swooped in with a knight and captured the piece. "Check to you, too."

"Son of a bitch." Sirius took evasive action.

"James is going to beat you," Peter said. "And I play winner."

"Shut _up_, Peter." Sirius moved a pawn.

Peter snorted. "Don't move your _pawn_. Put your queen over here - like this - " He reached over the board to show Sirius the better move. With a snarl, Sirius slapped his hand away, and accidentally sent the chessboard flying. The pieces shrieked as they hit the floor.

"Peter!" Sirius yelled, gathering up the pieces. "What in the _hell _\- "

"I was trying to give you a _chance_," Peter snapped, but he knew his face was red. "Not my fault you lashed out at me."

Sirius threw the pieces on the ground again and stalked away.

"Guess that means I win," James said with a shrug. "How about it, Peter? Play me?"

Peter grinned. "Sure!"

They bent to gather the fallen pieces. "I barely see you anymore, Pete," James said, putting his pawns on their squares. "What've you been up to?"

Peter shrugged. "You know. This and that. I found a new book to read, it's quite good. I stay late in the library most nights to read it."

"Yeah?" James had finished setting up his men and had reached over to help Peter. "What kind of book?"

He reddened again. "A muggle one. It's - it's about these brothers. They're trying to stop the apocalypse. It's - it sounds dumb when I explain it, but once you're past the first chapter, it's impossible to put down."

James chuckled. "I don't doubt it. White moves first. Go ahead."

Peter moved his pawn forward. "What about you? What've you been up to?"

"Oh, loads of chess." He mimicked Peter's pawn move. "I'm getting quite good."

"That's good." Peter moved another pawn. "I, erm . . . I've been afraid to talk to you, if you want to know the truth."

"What? Afraid?" James moved his queen. "Why?"

"Oh, you know. Just . . . it's a bit awkward." Peter moved his rook into play.

"What's awkward?"

"Well, you're so close now, with Sirius and Remus, and unless I force my way in, I feel like I'm unwanted around here."

"You're not unwanted."

"It doesn't feel that way."

"Peter." James made eye contact, and Peter flushed, because those eyes _haunted his dreams. _"Don't be shy, okay? I know we've all grown apart, a little, but we're still just as good friends as we were back in first year. If you need anything, you can come to me. No matter what it is."

Peter sighed. "I have a confession, in that case."

"Go ahead." James sent his bishop sailing across the board. "Peter, you look like you're going to be sick."

_Just tell him. He bloody _invited _you to tell him._

"Erm." Peter picked up his pawn and turned it over in his hands.

"Get your sweaty paws _off _me," the pawn squeaked. "Before I bite you!"

"Sorry," Peter said, replacing the pawn on the board. "Just thinking about my next move."

James was still looking at him. "Peter, come on."

_Tell him, Peter. Tell him you bloody fantasize about him._

Peter took a deep breath. "It's - "

"I want a bloody rematch!" It was Sirius, back from the dormitory, with Remus in tow. "_Move, _Peter, I want to go again."

"Wait until Peter and I are through, you git," James said with a grin. "Go play Remus, there's another chess set."

"I brought Remus to play with Peter," Sirius snapped. "I want to beat _you_, Potter. Fair and square." He swept his arm across the chessboard and knocked a few of Peter's pieces onto the ground.

"Shove _off_, mate," James said while Peter picked up his pieces. "Let us finish our bloody game. Come back when your emotions have settled down a bit."

Sirius stalked off to the other side of the room.

"Sore loser, eh?" James chuckled.

"He's like a tornado," Peter said, rolling his eyes at Sirius' back. "Blows through unannounced and unwanted leaving a trail of destruction in his wake."

James grinned and moved his queen. "You gotta admit, it is more fun when he's around. Whoops, Pete, that's checkmate!"

Peter sighed and stood up. "Yeah. Good game."

"What was it you were going to tell me?"

Peter licked his lips. _This is it. Don't be afraid. Tell him._

"Just that I m-missed you, that's all."

_Coward._

"My turn," Sirius said, shoving past Peter.

(And Peter watched them play and realized he'd give anything to be Sirius Black.)

* * *

_[Collect A Collection Competition: Peter Pettigrew (Marauder's Era)]_

_[100 Prompts: __"He's like a tornado. Blows through unannounced and unwanted leaving a trail of destruction in his wake." "You gotta admit, it is more fun when he's around."__]_

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Afraid]_

_[Relationship Bingo Board Challenge: C2 - slash]_

_[Female Character Challenge: Jo March - write about someone making the wrong choice when overcome by emotion]_

_[Star Challenge: _Dubhe - write about Peter Pettigrew, who was never quite as smart as his other three friends.]__


	7. Haunted

**Haunted**

_For Safari (wouldtheywriteasongforyou)_

_Inspired by _coeur de mort (_Story ID: 10114052/3)  
_

* * *

_Can't bReathe whenever yOu're gOne_

_can't turn bacK now_

_(i'm hauntED)_

* * *

_You were dead before you had the chance to take your first breath, Victoire Weasley. I am the monster that lurks within your mind. I am the shadow that follows you everywhere you go, and I am the nightmare that plagues your every waking thought. I have stolen your soul once, and I can do it again._

_I am your Dementor._

He watches her grow up from afar - only watches, never approaches, never touches. She changes from a cold infant to a smouldering youth to a blazing beauty, and he stands, motionless, as she draws looped hearts on her skin with her fingertips and smiles, smiles, smiles.

He's the only one who can smell death rolling off her hair like fog.

That's all she is, after all: death, wrapped up in a body with a heartbeat. Nineteen years ago he'd reached through the darkness and tugged at her helpless little soul, beckoned to it with one finger, promised it rest and peace for the price of _just one kiss_ \- and just as the soul was reaching back to him, the girl's father had come in and pushed him away.

So now he watches her, this girl who glows white-hot against the dullness of the rest of the world, and he counts all the ways she is different. She's vacant, for one, and her family thinks it's because she's a daydreamer, but he knows her mind is lined not with girlish fantasies but with shadows, with murkiness. She prefers to be alone so she can ponder cruelty and coldness - and he's the only one who seems to notice the way that sunny smile dies before it reaches her interior. _She's got her head in the clouds_, the world says fondly, except _no, _she _hasn't_, she's got her head shrouded in the Veil, submerged beneath the iciness of the North Sea.

(A soul that has felt the touch of a Dementor never quite forgets the darkness, does it.)

He watches her grow, and he watches her change, and he watches her quietly wonder why she doesn't mind having nightmares. Her soul isn't set quite right within her rib cage - it leans just a little to the left, lying exactly where he'd left it when it had slipped through his fingers nineteen years ago - and he can sense the way it's struggling to right itself. It's futile. Souls cannot move on their own. Even the strongest ones are too weak for that.

Sometimes he catches himself aching to reach out and nudge the soul back into alignment.

But he doesn't. He isn't supposed to touch her. He isn't even supposed to watch her, not like this, not like some sick perversion of a guardian angel. He is supposed to roam with the other Dementors, not linger behind The One That Got Away. He is supposed to find the prettiest and shiniest souls and offer them a kiss - except that _she_ is the shiniest soul he's ever come across, even if the smell of death is clinging to her. She is the colour of a Patronus and she burns like one, too, but he doesn't know how to look away.

(It only seems fitting, doesn't it, that he is the darkness in her soul and she is the brightness in his own vital force.)

So he watches her - not out of bitterness, but because he cannot help it.

And the simple truth is that Victoire Weasley haunts her Dementor every bit as much as he haunts her.

* * *

_Beta'd by the lovely Taylor (Semblance of Sanity)_


	8. Cold As You

**Cold As You**

_For Safari_

* * *

_And You comE awAy with a gReat littLe story_

_of A mess of a dreamer wiTh the nErve to adoRe you_

* * *

In her weakest moments, Marlene still thinks of him.

When nobody else is in her dormitory, she sits back against the wall and hugs her knees against her chest and lets her dark hair fall in a curtain around her face, and she whispers, "It's okay," to herself over and over, and sometimes she even believes it.

She's glad beyond belief that Sirius graduated a year ahead of her, because she doesn't know what she'd do if he saw her like this. She's not invincible like she used to be; she's faded into a barefoot little wisp of a thing that sits up in the middle of the night reaching for someone who walked away a long time ago. When people ask her why she looks so tired all the time, she tells them lies about studying all night, and they all pretend to believe her while she pretends to be fine.

The last words he ever said to her still echo in her head sometimes: _Did you really think this was going to be forever?_

She knows she's doing this to herself—it's sick, her addiction to pain, but it's strong—and she knows if she has any courage whatsoever she'll burn the love letters and throw away the necklace, but she can't bring herself to do it. Getting rid of his stuff feels final, somehow, like writing _the end _on a story that she's been trying desperately not to finish. It means admitting that her best efforts weren't enough to keep him next to her, and it means he's never coming back, not _ever_, no matter how much she craves him.

(Fitting, isn't it, that a man named Black left her feeling such a heavy shade of gray.)

She keeps a pack of cigarettes in the drawer of her nightstand, and even though she hasn't lit one in nearly a year, she still pulls them out late at night and presses her nose against them and breathe in deeply, because they smell like the parts of him that weren't made of leather and gasoline. She hates cigarettes, hates the smoke and the taste and the way they make her look, and back when he used to take her out on his motorcycle, she used to tug packs of them out of his pockets and let the wind whip them out of her hands and carry them away.

He always told her he hated when she did that, but he said it with a smile, and that was how she knew he didn't mind.

She hugs her knees against her chest and she whispers, "It's okay, it's okay," and she wonders whether she ever crosses his mind. Probably not. He's got other people to worry about—people he's never kissed, people he's never spent the night next to, people he's never held in his arms or rocked to sleep or snuck out with after dark to skip rocks and share secrets and drink bottles of stolen champagne. He's got his walls that she used to try so hard to pull down, the ones he fortified with laughter and jokes and _lies_, the ones that towered higher and higher the more she tried to tear them down.

He's got that glorious ability to forget about the words _I love you_, and she just doesn't know how.

The stone floor is cold against her bare feet; she knows how pale she looks nowadays, how thin, how _ugly_, and she knows people are worried about the way she doesn't get out of bed unless it's for class, and she wishes she remembered how to care.

Every once in awhile she can muster up the strength to _hate _him for taming the wild beast she used to be and then leaving without giving her back her fire and passion.

But for the most part she's just cold.

* * *

_[2015 New Years Resolution Challenge: Your OTP breaking up]_


	9. Jump Then Fall

**Jump Then Fall**

_For Melody_

* * *

i've had time to think it All over

and alL i can say is coMe clOSer

take a deep breaTh and jUmp then fall into me.

(every time you Smile, i smile)

* * *

"I'm ashamed to know you."

Katie rolled her eyes. "You're being dramatic."

"You're being _insane._"

"Nah, Katie's right," called Angelina from her room around the corner. Their flat had two bedrooms—three, if they counted Alicia's standing claim on the couch in the living room—but it was still small enough that there was never any hope of privacy. "You're overreacting, Oliver."

Oliver scowled. "Have you ever seen one?"

"A Tarantino film?" Angelina poked her head out of her room, clutching a towel around her torso. Her post-practice shower had left her hair hanging in wet curls that dripped on the carpeting as she looked at Oliver and Katie. "I watched _Kill Bill _once to prepare for assimilation to Muggle life. Definitely not realistic at all. Since I've been at this university, I haven't killed anyone. I'm a bit unimpressed."

Oliver's jaw went slack. "Unimpressed?" he repeated. "I've lost all respect for you, Johnson."

Angelina snorted. "I've never had any respect for you, Wood, so I s'pose we're on even footing now."

Oliver took a step down the hallway toward Angelina's room. "I can't believe—"

"Okay." Katie stepped around Oliver and held out her hands to stop him. "Okay. Calm down. If I watch a Tarantino film, will you stop shouting at Angelina?"

Angelina quirked one eyebrow and gave Oliver a smirk.

"I—sure," he said, looking away from Angelina and down at the girl in front of him. At five-foot-three, the top of Katie's head barely cleared his shoulders, but the determination on her face made her seem taller and more imposing.

"Good." Katie raked a hand through her hair, which was tangled from the autumn wind she'd endured on her walk from the coffee shop to the apartment. "Your place?"

"Why my place? We're already at your place."

"I don't have any Tarantino films." Katie opened the door to her bedroom—right next to Angelina's, with walls so thin they could hear each other snoring (Katie) or sleep-talking (Angelina) at night—and picked up the hairbrush from her vanity. "Or a DVD player."

"Or a roommate who wants to listen to you two watch a stupid Muggle movie by a stupid Muggle director," Angelina said, knocking lightly on the shared wall.

"Or that." Katie smirked as she ran the brush through her hair. "So, your place?"

Oliver shrugged. "I don't care."

"You'll drive me?" Katie swiped cherry Chapstick across her lips.

"We could Apparate."

"You know we aren't supposed to do that."

Oliver sighed. Living like a Muggle was impossibly inconvenient. In the eight years since Voldemort's defeat, however, the Ministry of Magic—or, more accurately, Hermione Granger, who had risen to power frightfully quickly within the government—had insisted that every pureblood get some experience living like Muggles. "At least one year," she had said. "It's time everyone learns how the non-magical half lives." And so here they all were, halfway through their first semester of Muggle university, living in cramped quarters with their wands under constant watch by the Ministry.

"You can't take the Muggle bus?" Oliver asked.

"I don't like the Muggle bus. And since I'm only doing this because you asked me to do this, I think it's only fair that you provide the transportation."

"You hate riding my motorcycle. Even when we were allowed to use it to fly back at Hogwarts, you hated it."

"I hate the bus more."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. But don't complain about how I drive."

Katie plucked her leather jacket from its place on the bedpost and shimmied into it. "Don't drive recklessly, and I won't have to."

"Be safe," Angelina called through the wall as Katie and Oliver stepped back out into the hallway and moved into the entryway.

"I'll make her wear a whaddaya-call-it—a helmet," Oliver said. Katie grabbed her wallet and key from the side table next to the door.

Angelina giggled. "That's not what I meant."

Katie rolled her eyes and opened the front door. "See you later, Angelina."

"I meant, don't get her preg—"

Katie cut her off with a slam of the door.

* * *

"So," Oliver said twenty minutes later as he unlocked the door to his own apartment. Oliver's roommates were never around; Charlie worked downtown most nights, and George was usually at some sporting event or other. Lee Jordan had moved out last month—he and Alicia were in an apartment of their own now that they were officially engaged. Instead of renting out Lee's spot to someone new, Oliver and the Weasleys had turned the fourth bedroom into a home theater. "Tarantino?"

Katie, looking dizzy and windswept from the motorcycle ride ("Hold on tight," Oliver had said, and she'd wrapped her arms around his abdomen slightly more tightly than necessary), nodded. Oliver led her to Lee's old room. This apartment was much nicer than hers, though neither of them ever mentioned that. It was bigger, and newer, and it featured hardwood flooring, and a bathroom with a tub that was an entity completely separate from the shower, and the heater didn't make ghostly noises, and the fridge light wasn't out, and all the doorknobs turned without squeaking.

The home theater was around the corner, between the bathroom and the kitchen. It was bigger than the other three bedrooms, though not by much, and it had a seventy-two-inch flatscreen TV mounted on the wall with subwoofers that had the downstairs neighbors complaining every few days. The Muggle technology confused the hell out of most of them, but Charlie had picked up on the basics quickly ("Years of living with a father obsessed with electricity," he'd explained). The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling formed astronomically accurate constellations (George was studying astronomy at the university), and the cabinet under the TV was wide enough to fit all their gaming systems, as well as about a dozen games and twice as many DVDs. The brown leather couch could recline into a queen-sized bed upon which Katie had fallen asleep more than once.

Katie had never asked to move into the fourth bedroom, but she wouldn't have turned down an invitation.

"You want _Inglourious Basterds_?" Oliver asked, pulling a DVD from the cabinet. "Or _Pulp Fiction_?"

Katie shrugged as she settled into the couch. "Up to you. I trust your judgement."

"We could go with _Kill Bill_, since that's the one Angelina saw." Oliver began to shuffle through his collection.

"You know what else Angelina just saw? That film _Legally Blonde_."

"_Legally Blonde_?"

Katie nodded. "It was cute. What's her name—Reese Witherspoon is great in it."

Oliver set down his copy of _Pulp Fiction_. "Reese Witherspoon is pretty hot. Looks a bit like Celestina Warbeck."

"It's on Netflix. We could watch it."

Oliver looked down at the DVD cabinet. "And then Tarantino?"

"Of course."

Oliver turned on the TV. "Works for me."

* * *

"It," Katie announced as the credits rolled, "is six o'clock in the morning."

_Legally Blonde_ had quickly turned into a viewing of _Legally Blonde the Musical_ on YouTube, which had had Oliver yelling at the screen about plot deviations and unintelligible lyrics for two and a half hours. Then they'd flipped to regular television and watched a Comedy Central special (Katie had nearly made herself sick from laughing), a marathon of _Law &amp; Order_ ("Just use magic!" Oliver had said every episode), and a showing of _Back to the Future_, which neither of them had ever seen but both found wildly entertaining.

The Tarantinos stayed on the shelf.

"We've been here for nine hours." Katie's eyes were glued to the screen. "I can't feel my face."

Oliver smirked. "You want to crash here for the night?"

She nodded. "I'm not in the mood for a motorcycle ride back to the apartment."

"Charlie came home a few hours ago. He could take you in his car."

Katie shrugged. "I'll just crash here." She glanced down at her phone. "Angelina sent me twelve texts."

"Yeah?" Oliver looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her phone. "What does she want?"

Katie flicked through the messages. "Just nonsense about not getting pregnant. She's convinced you and I are, you know, _together_. I've told her a million times we're just friends." She sighed and shook her head. "People are ridiculous."

"Yeah." Oliver shifted slightly on the couch. "You want to stand up so I can turn the couch into a bed, or…?"

"I don't want to move." Katie leaned back until she was reclining against Oliver. "We never watched a Tarantino."

"I know."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. We'll get to it someday."

"Tomorrow night?"

Oliver laughed and adjusted himself so his arm was around her shoulder. "Sure."

"I didn't mean to monopolize the home theater."

"I don't mind."

"But I made you watch chick flicks."

"Just _Legally Blonde_. I liked it."

"And _Legally Blonde the Musical_."

"Didn't like that one as much." He slid his arms around Katie's waist and pulled her a little tighter against him. "If we're not moving, then you're going to be my blanket tonight."

"I just said _I'm _not moving." She squirmed a little, but didn't pull away. "You can get up and get your own blanket."

"Not if you're on top of me like this, I can't!"

"Fine."

Oliver waited, but she didn't move. "Are you going to let me up, or…?"

"No. I'm just going to be your blanket."

He laughed and let his head fall back against the arm of the couch. "Fine. Whatever you want."

There was silence between them for a few minutes. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you awake?"

"No, Katie, I'm talking to you while unconscious."

She snorted. "I keep thinking about what Angelina said, about us being—you know, together."

He didn't answer.

"It's just that, we spend all our time together. I'm always over here, or you're always at my place, and with Lee and Alicia getting married, and George always making eyes at Angelina, I thought maybe—well, I haven't had a boyfriend in years, and you haven't had a girlfriend _ever_, and I—"

"You're babbling."

"I know." Katie laughed quietly. "Okay. Let me try again. We're about halfway through our year as Muggles, and I don't know about you, but even though I hated it at first, I think I've come to like it."

"I'm a fan of television," Oliver said. "And video games. Why don't we have any of those things at home?"

"There are, erm, some other things that I've spent time with lately that I've come to like."

"Like what?"

Katie shrugged against his side. "Not so much a thing as a person."

"Oh? Who is it?"

She sat up and turned around to face him. "Oliver. Are you really this thick?"

He smirked. "No. I just want to hear you say it."

She bit her lip. "Do you want to know why we didn't watch any Tarantino films tonight?"

"Because we got distracted?"

Katie shook her head. "Because I wanted an excuse to see you again tomorrow."

Oliver smirked. "You could just ask to see me again tomorrow," he whispered, sitting up and leaning forward to slip a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek.

"Can I see you again tomorrow?" she asked as his fingers curled under her chin.

He nodded, letting his gaze fall to her lips. "I'd like that."

She swallowed. "Me, too."

He looked into her eyes for a moment, and then dropped her chin and pulled away. "What d'you say to breakfast?" he asked, getting up off the couch and stretching his arms over his head. "I could go for some Muggle cereal—we've got Lucky Charms, if that's okay with you?"

"Oliver Wood!"

"What?"

"All that, and you aren't going to kiss me?"

He smirked. "Just wanted to hear you ask for it."

"I—"

He cut her off with a deep kiss.

On the couch beside them, Katie's phone buzzed with her thirteenth text from Angelina—_R u even coming home, or have you run away with him?—_but neither of them heard.

* * *

_Quidditch League Finals, Round 1: Pairing Diversity_

_Holyhead Harpies, Seeker_

_Prompt: Oliver Wood/Katie Bell_

_Word Count: 1,986_

_I know some of the dates don't quiiiiiite work out with film/technology releases, but we can pretend, right? :)_

_[Restricted Collection Challenge: No reference to a Hogwarts House]_

_[2015 New Years Resolution Competition: MuggleUniversity!AU]_


End file.
